


These Arms of Mine

by voidfoxstarlight



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, M/M, Martin also shows up very briefly, Nightmares, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Season/Series 01, Whump, back when jon and tim were still friends :(, in the words of someone whose name i've quite forgotten, you can pry their pre-canon friendship from my cold dead fingers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:41:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23327173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voidfoxstarlight/pseuds/voidfoxstarlight
Summary: “Talk to me,” Tim said. “What’s going on?”“I can’t sleep,” Jon said in the kind of voice that walks the edge between anger and tears. “I can’t—I haven’t slept in—” A sob wracked his body.
Relationships: Jonathan Sims & Tim Stoker, Jonathan Sims/Tim Stoker
Comments: 11
Kudos: 231





	These Arms of Mine

**Author's Note:**

> okay so i've got this headcanon that jon had trouble sleeping even before he started working at the magnus institute, and its easier for him to sleep when someone's holding him, and he and tim were friends and tim likes holding people so. jon used to just stay the night at tims place all the time.

Tim stood, stretched, and cracked his back. “I think it’s time to head out for the day.”

Martin checked the clock and nodded. “Want to take the train together?”

“Nah, I drove. I can drop you off at yours, if you like.”

Martin smiled. “Thanks, Tim.”

They gathered up their bags and coats and got ready to leave. Martin stopped by Jon’s office door on the way out. “I’ll just let him know we’re leaving.”

Tim lingered outside the door, scrolling through Twitter and not really paying much attention to anything while he waited, until Jon’s voice wafted through the open door.

“— _fine_ , Martin, just leave me a— _alone_.” His voice cracked on the last word.

Tim frowned and peeked his head in. Jon’s hand was over his eyes, his glasses askew and pushed up on his forehead. Just below the edge of his hand, a tear slipped down his cheek. Martin hovered by the edge of his desk, hands fluttering like he wanted to pat Jon down to look for physical injuries.

“Jon?” Tim said.

Jon shifted his fingers so that Tim could see his right eye peering out from behind them.

Tim entered the office properly. “Martin, I’m really sorry, but I think you might have to take the train.”

“But—” Martin glanced at Jon, a bit hopelessly. He looked back at Tim and seemed to deflate. “Alright. That’s fine.” He hesitated at the door for a moment, then offered a soft, “Feel better, Jon,” before he left.

“Alright,” Tim said. He sat on the loveseat pushed against the wall and patted the spot next to him. Jon got up from his office chair and took the proffered seat instead, folding his hands in his lap and staring down at them silently.

“D’you want a hug?” Tim offered gently. Jon nodded. Tim folded him in his arms, and Jon slumped against him and leaned his temple on his chest.

“Talk to me,” Tim said. “What’s going on?”

“I can’t sleep,” Jon said in the kind of voice that walks the edge between anger and tears. “I can’t—I haven’t slept in—” A sob wracked his body.

“Did you get any sleep last night?” A shake of his head. “The night before?” Jon held up three fingers. “Three hours?” A nod. Tim stroked his shoulders soothingly. “Do you want to come over tonight?” Another nod. “You wanna go right now?” A pause, then a slight shake of his head. “Alright.”

Tim gently tugged Jon's hairtie loose and gently scratched Jon's scalp. They sat there for a few minutes longer, Jon’s shoulders still shaking, before Jon stood up and wiped his eyes. Tim watched him as he shuffled some papers on his desk and put away a few files.

When he put on his coat, Tim stood up. “Ready to go?”

Jon nodded. Tim offered his arm. Jon took it, and Tim led him to his car.

The drive was long. Tim kept up a steady stream of chatter about nothing in particular. When they got to Tim’s house, Tim asked, “You want takeout or real food?”

Jon shrugged. Tim dialed for takeout.

They ate on the couch, watching crap tv. When they were done, Tim went to his bedroom and dug Jon’s old pyjamas out of the bottom of his drawer.

“Here,” he said, having returned to the living room. “These should still fit, I don’t think you’ve grown any.”

Jon’s brow furrowed as he took them. “You still have these?”

Tim nodded. “I’ve still got your toothbrush under the sink, too.”

“Why? I haven’t stayed over in… Christ, I don’t know how long.”

Tim shrugged. “Well, you’re here now, so I guess it’s a good thing I kept it all.”

“I… yes, I suppose it is.” Jon gingerly unfolded himself from the couch. “I’ll go change.”

A change of pyjamas and some brushed teeth later, Jon and Tim were crawling into bed. Tim laid on his back and Jon scooted up the bed to lay his head on Tim’s chest. Tim wrapped his arms around Jon, pulling him closer. Jon’s left hand went up to rest on Tim’s chest, tracing nonsense patterns with his fingers.

“Tim?” Jon whispered.

“Yeah?”

“Can you… can you pet my hair?”

“Course I can.”

Tim brought one hand up to the back of Jon’s head and began to stroke his hair, smoothing it down his back.

“You wanna tell me what’s got you so riled up you haven’t slept in two days?” His tone was kind but firm.

Jon sighed and settled against him more heavily. “I’ve… I’ve been having some… _awful_ nightmares.”

“Bout what?”

Jon’s fingers stilled.

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to talk ab—”

“No, it’s fine, it’s just… it’s the _statements_ , Tim, I’m _dreaming_ about them every night and I—” He sounded damn near tears again when he cut himself off.

“Maybe you should take a couple days off, stop staying so late. You’ve been working too hard lately.”

“They’re not even _scary_ , but I can _feel_ their fear.” He sobbed once. “They’re so afraid.”

“Take tomorrow off,” Tim said gently. “You can hang out here, and I’ll call out too.”

Jon quieted. “Okay.”

Tim kissed the top of his head and stroked his hair until he fell asleep.


End file.
